


Origins of Witches

by proofreading_whats_that



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Apologies, Gen, Heaven's Vice, Libraries, Rework of Old Fic, Suggestions of Sex Toys, book clubs, strange creatures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26734135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/proofreading_whats_that/pseuds/proofreading_whats_that
Summary: Harry discovers a way to get a translation off of an ancient carved slab of stone. Harry apologizes to Macy for his book club mistakes.The four successfully summon a strange creature.
Relationships: Harry Greenwood/Macy Vaughn
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	1. Bad Translations and Messes

Maggie had felt eyes boring into the back of her head for a while. Harry was staring at her in the living room. She studiously ignored him. Maggie saw him move in the corner of her eye. He sat in a chair.

“Maggie, I have a favor to ask of you.”

Maggie smacked her hand on the couch in exasperation. “No.”

“I’d never ask that of you again,” Harry assured her. “What I need your help with now is something different. I told you I met your mother through research. It’s been quiet for a while, no impending doom, so I’ve been wanting to continue my studies. But your powers have the potential to reveal even more. The origins of magic in humans!” Harry explained, growing more enthusiastic as he spoke.

“How so?”

“I think it might be easier to show you,” Harry said and offered her his arm. Maggie looked at him dubiously. “No more than a half hour for now, please? I don’t even know if it’d work, but I have to see.”

Maggie took his arm warily. “Out with it, Har.”

“I’d like you to hold something to look into it’s past. An experiment of sorts.”

“Let’s see it,” Maggie sighed.

Harry orbed them to the Elders' auditorium. The room was predictably empty and dark except for them. The air was stale and oppressive. Harry pulled out a flashlight and flicked it on but it barely illuminated the auditorium. “Honestly, when they first started Hollywood Squares I thought for sure an Elder was behind it,” Harry said as they looked up at the empty alcoves.

“Come this way,” Harry said. He walked towards a corridor and hit a light switch. Harsh ceiling lights turned on with a mechanical  _ thunk, thunk, thunk _ down an interminably long hallway. Maggie couldn’t even see the end.

“Where are we going?” Maggie asked. Her voice echoed down the hall. The starkness of the hallway gave her chills. Every so often they passed a door marked with years.

“The library of the Elders,” Harry said. He gestured at a door they occasionally passed. “A collection of all manuscripts that mention or even allude to magic throughout history. It’s arranged by century. Well, when centuries are applicable.” They continued down the hall. “Marisol and my interests met when she was learning more about Santeria based magic. My research related to how Western colonialism overtook New World magical tradition.. Before that, I was trying to find the origins of magic in humans, but the oldest texts are impossible to translate so I had to abandon that... But, with you, perhaps we can go back even farther. There are some tablets.. well, you’ll see.”

“Uh, Har, Mel’s the time witch.”

It seemed as if they had been walking forever. “You’ll see,” Harry said. “Your powers are most suitable to this, I think. Here we are,” Harry said almost reverently. They had arrived at an unmarked door, which he opened and flipped the light switch inside. He frowned at the table. “With no Elders, there are no librarian whitelighters, and…” he sighed as he brushed dust off of a table in the middle of the room, then made a face as he tried to dust off his hands and arm, eventually to some success.

Maggie looked around the room. Narrow cubbies lined the walls. Instead of books or even scrolls that she was expecting, each cubby appeared to contain a thick slab. Harry carefully removed one seemingly at random and gingerly placed it on the table. “Here, look,” Harry said. He inspected a laminated piece of paper that was in the same cubby.“This one was found in what is now Oman.”

A stone tablet was preserved between thick sheets of protective plexiglass. Strange symbols were chipped into the tone. Pieces of the slab seemed to have fallen away. It was ancient.

“Harry, I don’t know what to make of this.”

Harry carefully removed the top sheet of plexiglass so Maggie’s hands could access the stone itself. He sat down.

“I don’t want to bore you with the details, I could blather on about this for ages. But, I think these tablets may be a recording of the oral histories of people who came before the tablets were ever carved.. That’s what I’m hoping. Modern theories on the purpose of ancient gods is to explain natural phenomena. But what if these old gods were instead demons that people were trying to placate? Ancient mythological gods are described as terrifying, multiple limbs, powers, requiring sacrifices. What if magic reached humans through demon-human breeding, reminiscent of the Neanderthal DNA in many of us? What if magic was a gift from placated demons? After all, the Source and the Flame are the same. There are so many possibilities, if we can just look far enough back. What if these tablets hold oral tradition that may lend some understanding as to how some humans came to possess magic?” 

Maggie studied Harry as he went on and then looked at the tablet in front of her. The sheer age of it bore down on her. Thousands of years ago - who knew how many, if there was no translation - someone sat and painstakingly chipped the symbols into stone. She wondered how long ago the last person able to read it lived. “What are you thinking?”

Harry shook his head. “I’ve speculated plenty and don’t want to give more ideas that may influence your skills. Do you think you can learn anything about whatever is on that tablet?”

Maggie looked again at the stone in front of her. “Well… I was able to get some information about that broken window when we were trying to find Parker…” she said, her voice trailing off. She sounded doubtful.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Harry asked.

“Hmm,” Maggie said. She placed her hands on the tablet and concentrated.

_ The arms and hands before her were faintly scaly, almost as if she were part fish. The ocean breeze ran through her feathers and in the corner of her eye a turquoise monsoon pool was eerily still. She held the chisel and hammer carefully, but her hands had long scarred over marks of years of missing the stone and chiseling a finger instead. A symbol was etched in, representing fish scales. Another, sand. Another, goat’s blood. A dusky pink rose. Salt water. The chiseler continued chipping symbols onto the slab representative of something wholly foreign, thoughts that were seemingly impossible to grasp… _

“It seems like a recipe. Fish scales, sand, goat’s blood, water, flowers. There were more, but the thought behind it was so strange I couldn’t understand what it represented, ” Maggie said. “Maybe part of a cookbook? Probably a soup.”

“A soup.” Harry looked thoughtful. “Or a potion?”

“Aren’t some of the oldest writings just trade ledgers and beer recipes?” Maggie suggested.

“It  _ could _ be a potion,” Harry said. “We won’t know until we try to put it together.”

Maggie sat back. “Har, this is a wild goose chase.” A thought occurred to her. “Oh, yeah, and the person who carved it - their arms and hands were scaly. Almost like a fish. But still skin. Scale-skin. With feathers.”

Harry took a picture of the tablet. “A person with fish scaled limbs and a cookbook. Maggie, this isn’t a recipe,” he said. “Or, whoever wrote it wasn’t entirely human...”

“Harry, whatever it is, it’s lost to the millenia. I watched them carve that tablet and half of the symbols on there.. There are no modern words or explanations as to what they may mean. I couldn’t even understand all of their thoughts,” Maggie said. 

Harry started packing the tablet back into its plexiglass and gently resting it in the cubby. “I suppose a good place to start would be the Book of Elders, perhaps… a demon with scales and feathers…” He sighed. “I wish the Book of Shadows hadn’t been incinerated. Do you know of a demon with fish scales and feathers?”

“But it was a person, Harry,” Maggie said.

“Maybe Macy would be able to read it…” Harry said thoughtfully. “Were the fingers webbed?”

“I don’t remember, Harry. Come on, let's go.”

\------

Harry tapped on the door to Macy’s room. “Come in,” she said and smiled warmly at the knocker. She frowned. “What’s got you in a tizzy today?”

“Mace, can you take a look at something?” Harry asked. “Do you remember that book that you could read in the Demon’s Tongue? Can you read this?” Harry showed her his phone.

Macy frowned at the picture of the tablet. “It’s not Demon’s Tongue, but it…  _ looks _ similar,” Macy murmured. She took the phone from Harry for a closer look.

“Maggie was able to understand some of the thoughts of the carver, but some were too odd for her to grasp,” Harry said.   


“What is this, anyway?” Macy asked.

“Maggie says it's soup. I think it’s a potion,” Harry said. “Do you think if Maggie were able to show you the chiseler you would be able to grasp the thoughts of whoever - whatever - was carving this? If the writing is similar to Devil’s Tongue, perhaps the spoken or thought word would be related enough to the Devil’s Tongue that you could glean more information from it?”

Harry said. “I’ve always been curious as to how exactly witches came into existence, how humans obtained magic in the first place.”

“It could just be natural evolution, Har. Easiest answer,” Macy suggested.

“Maggie was able to get some information from the tablet. Why not try combining your powers with Maggie’s? Maybe you could get the remainder of the recipe.”

“I’ll give it a whirl,” Macy agreed.

“I really appreciate the translation,” Harry said. He sighed.

“I hope I get it right,” Macy responded. "It will probably take a little trial and error."

Harry moved closer to Macy and her computer and looked over her screen. “Why are you deleting that stuff?”

“Ugh, I want a new account on this Heaven’s Vice thing but you can only have one account per email. So I have to wait a day to get a new link for a new account. It’s a little frustrating,” Macy said, wincing. “What’s really on your mind?”

Harry straightened up and leaned against the wall. “I wanted to talk to you a little about your book club,” he said awkwardly, desperately not wanting to dive into babble. He tried to marshal his thoughts. “You know, I read the books that you guys read and I listen to the comments about the books. I like doing that. But, at this morning’s club, I overheard that my listening and reading while not being a part of the club is causing some kind of drama,” Harry said. “Does that make sense? I don’t even know what, since I’m not part of the club, but I’m sorry if I caused any kind of rift between you and your friends. It was never my intention.”

“Thank you for that, Harry. I’ll pass it along,” Macy said.

“And there was something else. I once spoke briefly about a book with one of your friends. But what I said was mean and unwarranted. I’m really sorry about that.”

“Thanks, Harry. I’ll pass that along as well.”

“I think I’ve been mean in other ways but I don’t even know, so I don’t even know what to apologize for.”

Macy looked at him oddly. “Okay, Harry.”

“Also,” Harry started. “I think you all may have overheard me when I mentioned I didn’t want to know anybody. It was mean, and I don’t think that anyone would really understand, or that the reasons really matter but… I was scared.”

“Of what?”

“I don’t even know. Of everything,” Harry said.

“Alright,” Macy said.

Harry sighed. He knew a  _ thank you _ to an apology was not an acceptance of one, merely an acknowledgment that one was given. But it was the best he could do with the roundabout communication. He suddenly smiled. “I can’t wait to translate the formula more accurately. Next time!” he said excitedly.

\----

Mel sat in the command center’s library, a stack of demon description books next to her. There was no trace of a feathered scaled fish demon in any of the books. They were compilations of texts from the Elders’ library so there would be no need to sort through the entire collection.

She sat back and shook her head. She had found many examples of scaled demons reminiscent of all kinds of animals. The feathered demons were few and far between.

She then wondered sourly how she had been roped into the entire pursuit. Mel was curious but she had long been a creature of action rather than study. Give her a feathered fish demon to defeat any day of the week and she’d be far more content than looking for one in books.

She shut the last book and put her head down. Mel must have dozed off as she was jolted awake by Harry’s orb with Maggie and Mel back to the command center. “You’d never believe it!” Macy said excitedly.

“Yeah?” Mel said.

Macy went over to Mel’s table and put a notebook down to show her.

“Maggie and Macy were able to recover the recipe,” Harry said.

“It’s a marinade!” Macy said.

“A marinade.” Mel said. The more she heard of these escapades the more doubtful she grew. Mel looked at the notebook. “Goat’s blood. Green scales from a large striped fish. Stamen from a frankincense flower. Water from a monsoon pool. Petals from a pink summer rose. Qurm... bark? What’s a qurm? A living rock lobster.. Isn’t that a song?” Mel shook her head. “Stir at night at a full moon? Leave to rest at the summer pools? Seriously, guys.”

“Melanie, you may scoff, but this is groundbreaking. I spent years working on those tablets,” Harry looked slightly hurt. “You three know how to find me, I’m going to put this together and see what comes out.”

“Harry, that’s extremely rash, maybe think about it a bit. Who knows what you’ll stir up?” Mel asked.

“It’s not the full moon, Melanie, there will be plenty of time to decide otherwise. At the very least, I can get the ingredients together.” Harry clapped his hands once, abruptly. “Now, who wants to go to the beach? The tablet was found outside of Salalah in Oman.”

\-----

Macy compared her list to the contents of the tote bag. “We’re good to go!”

“Ladies, I highly recommend we apply sunscreen before orbing. The sun is quite strong,” Harry suggested.

“Do you know where we’re going?” Macy asked.

“A little," Harry hedged.

“Let’s go, then.” Maggie said as she put her sunglasses on. 

Macy picked up an empty tote bag and shoved the recipe notebook in it.

“Don’t forget this,” Mel said, retrieving a magically chilled quart of goat’s blood from the cabinet.


	2. An Anticlimactic Matter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The four meet a strange creature.

Mel peered into the pot of sludge she had just chilled before Maggie gently put the little rock lobster into it to swim around. “Now what?” she asked.

Harry consulted the notes. “Let marinate for thirty breaths.”

“Should we re-up the translation ear drops?” Maggie asked.

“No, we should be fine,” Harry said.

Maggie fished out the little crab and set it into the small pond.

\---------

The creature stirred.

Ivinia slowly coalesced from the water. She gathered first a few legs, some arms, three hands, a few more arms and another head or two. Eyes, a mouth, and teeth, oh yes teeth. This year’s monsoons had been strong; there was plenty of water to make an intimidating form. She snaked out a tongue to catch the basted rock lobster and whipped it into her mouth. Ivinia rose from the water to see what had summoned her. Humans!

The four humans before her looked surprised. One of them spoke. “Uh, hello,” one of the humans yelled up to one of her heads. “Did you give people like us - magic?”

Ivinia looked down on them skeptically. “Yes.”

“How? What do you do? How did you do it?” a different human yelled up to her.

“Well! The magic question, but, do you have the magic word?” Ivinia asked coyly.

“Please tell us about the relationship between you, humans, and magic, please?” one yelled up to a different head.

Ivinia coiled herself and shrunk down into a humanesque form. With a wave of a hand a large, rough blanket was thrown down onto the ground. Objects clattered onto the blanket, made of glass, wood, stone, and some made of ancient substances of which the alchemic makeup was lost to the sands of time.“ My kind gave you our fire, that which you call magic,” Ivinia said. “With these.”

One of the humans coughed. “How?” it asked.

Ivinia laughed and sat on her blanket. “My kind… we are only here when the monsoons arrive. We would leave fiery - magical, as you would say - trinkets to remind you of us through the winter months. When the monsoons start to abate we gifted you with these. Your kind would come to our gift stalls.” Ivinia picked up an object which seemed reminiscent of a sucking leech. “Your kind would come and we would help them find the best toy for their needs and purposes. Sometimes we would provide guidance on how to use them. Those were few and far between, though. Many came with toys from previous years to have the fire reapplied, too.” Her hand gestured over her goods. “Look.”

The humans in front of her gathered in front of her blanket, looking somewhat surprised. Ivinia laughed. “These… toys, I believe you call them, now, have been around for thousands of years. You lost your touch for them for a while, yes, but before you forgot we really did leave you with quite a repertoire. Instead of this electricity you use, ours were powered by fire. By magic.”

One of the humans was peering over the toys. “We really reinvented the wheel, huh,” one of them said. “And not nearly as well.”

“But what do these have to do with magic? With fire?” one asked.

Ivinia sighed. “Well, if you rub one of these on yourself long enough, some does wear off on you,” she said. “Eventually it became a part of your kind, I suppose. Some of you, at least.”

The humans turned towards one another.

\-----

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Harry said.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not from or a part of Native American or Omani culture or heritage.


End file.
